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Friday, September 30, 2011

I went to Costco very hungry today. This was not a good idea. Just as you should not go to the grocery store when you are hungry or the Nordstrom Rack when you are naked, you should never go to Costco, the home of the sample, while you are famished.

I didn’t realize how much I ate until I left and was driving home. I left a message for a friend, telling her I felt sick and that this was why (yes, we girls do this kind of crap):

Half a bologna and Miracle Whip sandwich (I know, they give you an entire half of a sandwich, score!)Sample of crème brulee cheesecakeSample of white chocolate raspberry cheesecakeOrange chickenBBQ Korean chickenBlack Bean/Garlic Chips and salsaPiece of bread with olive oil

This is a picture of Ethel giving out penis samples.

Not only is this a lot of food, but it’s a lot of weird food all mixed together. This is a bunch of shit I never eat, with the exception of the bread and olive oil and the chips/salsa. I haven’t had bologna in years and my God, it tasted amazing. Clearly, I should eat more of it because I am not getting my daily requirement of nitrates and ground up bull and pig organs.

All of this was not a meal for me, this was between meals, so additional to my regular intake. This got me to thinking: is there a statistic out there about the average number of calories a person consumes in Costco samples per shopping trip?

While I could not find an exact number (clearly someone should hire me to figure this one out), I did find the caloric values for some of the samples. Some examples from HERE:

Thursday, September 29, 2011

My daughter, who is in fifth grade, came home from school last week and collapsed into a tearful mess – all the self confidence sucked right out of her like air out of a balloon. She had run for Student Council President and had lost.

I listened, my motherly heart breaking, as she sniffed and gulped, the words pouring out of her mouth:

“But, I worked so hard! How could this happen?”

“I must have done a really bad job because someone else won.”

“I got up in front of all those people and now I feel stupid.”

I tried to pick up the pieces reminding her of one of life’s greatest lessons: that failure, rejection and defeat are a reality for every one of us. I let her know that I ran for class president in 8th grade and didn’t win and that I’ve had countless other setbacks. I told her it is our duty to grow from these experiences, to use them to our advantage to make us stronger. We cannot let losing or failing paralyze us and make us afraid to try again. This is what builds character and eventually helps us find success.

While listening to her, two things jumped out at me:

1. Just because we work hard at something doesn’t mean it will turn out the way we planned or hoped. Just because we work hard at something does not mean we are guaranteed anything. Yet, that should never stop us from working as hard as we can and giving it 100%. As is often the case with the most meaningful things in life, the journey is the classroom. The journey is the real experience.

How many of us have trained for races only to be struck down by injury only weeks before the big day? We feel cheated. After all, we trained our asses off and made countless sacrifices only to find ourselves as a DNS-er (Did not Start),a DNF-er (Did Not Finish), or God forbid a DFL-er (Dead F&cking last) - something no athlete ever wants to be. We think “What was the point of all that training? What a waste.”

Well, I’m here to tell you it wasn’t wasted effort. The training was a platform for growth. For learning what to do better next time. It served a purpose. And the injury did too. It hopefully ignited a fire in you to recover, to keep moving forward, to never give up.

2. We should never let how we feel about ourselves or our performance be dictated by our ego’s need to compare ourselves with others. Our race is OURS and no one else's. Comparing ourselves does one of two things: makes us feel inappropriately inadequate or makes us feel inappropriately superior. It is natural to compare ourselves to others, but it usually makes us terribly unhappy. So, why do it? There will always be someone faster, smarter, thinner, richer just like there will always be someone slower, dumber, fatter and poorer. Get over it.

I always tell myself that the ONLY thing that matters after I cross the finish line is that I have no regrets about what I did on the course (except for that turd I left at mile four, but whatever). Only I know if I gave it my all and if I didn’t well, I have to live with that and it won’t be pretty.

Sometimes late at night (probably why I can’t sleep), I go through my day and know there were moments as a parent, spouse, friend, athlete, employee that I could have stepped it up and didn’t. It’s a piss poor feeling. I don’t have to be perfect or please everyone or run a 3:30 marathon, but I HAVE to know I lived up to my potential for that day. I want to be better, to do better, to show up as my best self in all ways. We all should.

As the Buddha says, “The only real failure in life is not to be true to the best one knows.”

I know for a fact that Emma was incredibly proud of her posters and the speech that she gave. I know for a fact that she delivered an amazing speech in front of 300 students and teachers in a poised, self confident and kick ass manner because I was there. When she told me she must have done a bad job because she didn’t win, I asked her “But, how did you feel after your speech, before the votes were in? Were you proud of yourself?” She replied, “Yes, it was hard to get up in front of all those people, but I did it.” So, in a sense, she did win.

Do you compare yourself to others and base your self worth on that? Of course I do, but I try to be aware that it is happening and tell myself to “KNOCK IT OFF.” It really does no good. In a race I am competitive with others, and I think the two things are very different. I see competition as beneficial because it feels like the spirit of the event and a dynamic that makes us push harder. In daily life, however, I am most unhappy when I am seeing how I stack up next to everyone else. And, yes, it is VERY easy to compare in the blog world, so we all have to watch out for that trap.

How has failure/rejection/defeat made you stronger? For me, there are stages. At first, I pull back and don’t want to try again. But, over time I keep telling myself that you need to “Fall down seven times, get up eight.” I try not to take it personally and to learn from it.

Last night, daughter Emma and I headed down to Denver for the Taylor Swift concert:

I had to sell my body for these tickets. They sold out in about a half a second back in April. They were Emma's tenth birthday present, and tonight they finally paid off.

We took along Emma’s best friend and my friend Erika. People probably thought we were two lesbian moms out with our girls.

Taylor puts on a good show, I will say that. As a mom, I dig TS because she is a decent role model for Emma. She speaks/writes from the heart. She is close to her own mom. She doesn’t promote herself with sexuality or promiscuity. She seems grounded despite her oodles of fame.

But, by far the best part of the night was knowing that Emma was making lifelong memories at every moment and I got to be a part of that. She gets so mad when she notices that I am crying during these moments because, “C’mon mom it’s just a concert,” but to me it represents a snippet of my life with my little girl. A time that is fleeting. This was one of the highlights of her life so far outside of coming out of my body (which she remembers every moment of) and zip lining in Costa Rica.

We got home at about midnight. I slept for four hours then got up and headed back to Denver to do a spot on 9news about the Skirt Chaser 5K this weekend. Founder, Nicole DeBoom was interviewed about Skirt Sports and the race, and the rest of us got to model (and take home) clothes. My tank has a “cleavage alley” pocket in it where you can hide lip gloss, keys, tampons, condoms. I probably need more of a “flatlands alley” in my tank, but that’s okay.

Here’s me in the “green room” trying on my stuff. It’s not very green and there was no fruit or muffins or Oprah. If I look tired and menstrual, that because I AM! I didn’t even shower before my tv debut:

I am not sure what is so funny, but must have to do with my cleavage. How do I bend my leg back that far?

My outfit is part of the new fall line. Gym Girl Ultra in Red Kiss ($65) and Wonder Girl Tank in the Red Kiss Play Print ($55). The color in real life is much more of a pretty wine red, not so bright like here.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

If you’ve never heard of Planet Gear, you should really check it out. Basically, PG (not “Parental Guidance”, way more exciting than that) offers 72 hour *hot* sales on stuff like Iron Girl sunglasses, TYR tanks, jackets and bras. The items change all the time, so lots of variety! It is first come, first serve until stuff runs out.

Most items are marked down 50-70%. It’s all outdoor gear and apparel, so no dumb stuff like slippers for your cat or body part enlargers.

All you have to do to be entitled to the sale’s items is to sign up. It’s free.

For the next few days (until October 4th) PG will donate $1 for every new member or Facebook “like” to Breast Cancer Awareness.

Planet Gear has generously offered one reader a $50 credit to be used to purchase items on their site. Such an awesome deal. To enter (comment for each):

Monday, September 26, 2011

Today I got up way early and wanted to RUN. But, it was dark because it is dark until much later these days (I am a genius I know. It becomes fall and the days get shorter and it has been doing this for the 44 years I have been alive, yet it still surprises me). I was waiting until it got lighter to run and made some FB comment about this. A bazillion people jumped on me to say that they run in the dark, so what was I waiting for??

Run in the dark? My mom taught me to not do that that. College campus police didn't advocate for that one. I am the type who parks under a big streetlight at Target and runs to my car with my keys in my hand to poke someone’s eye out if necessary. The one time I ran in the dark at Hood to Coast I had a headlamp and was completely freaked. Boogeymen lurking in every bush.

The issue for most people when running at night or early morning was making sure they were wearing the right reflective clothing and did not trip over an uneven sidewalk or fall into a pothole. Great. But, the whole time I’m thinking: I can take tripping and falling. I can't take being jumped and raped or abducted or held up at gunpoint.

Don’t get me wrong, I live in a decent area and if I did run in the dark, I wouldn't sprint into a forest and run in the thickness of the trees. Yet, I was surprised that most peoples’ concerns were about being seen and not being attacked by animals. There was no mention of being attacked by humans.

Am I over reacting? Do you run alone in the dark? If so, what precautions do you take?

A new marathon record was set yesterday by Patrick Makau, age 26, of Kenya. A faster time was run in Boston this year (don’t make me look it up and no I did not memorize it), but it did not count due to a net elevation loss on the course, the tailwind and the fact that the course is point to point.

I ran the Boston Marathon this year and I was not aided in any way by the tailwind or net elevation loss. In fact, I ran as if I had a headwind and 5,000 feet of elevation gain. But that is just me. I guess if I had had a pacer with me like Makau did I might have run a sub 2 hour race. But, in the end, I would have still have had that stop in the porta potty where I had to remove my underwear and throw it away and I think that added at least ten minutes.

2:03:38 is just a time on the clock. It sounds very, very fast and is the time that many of us do for 13.1 miles, not 26.2. But, to make it even more real for you, a 2:03:38 marathon time requires an average pace of 4:43 minutes per mile. I could crap myself just thinking about it. In my wildest dream I do not think I could even run a sixteenth of a mile at a 4:43 pace. I do not know what to say about someone who can run that fast except that I cannot bow far enough onto the ground to express my respect and admiration.

Here are a couple of fun facts about Makau:

He began to “train seriously” only 10 years ago

Starting at the age of 10, he would run 32 km per day to and from school (19.9 miles). He never aspired to be a world class runner.

He started running with hopes of emerging from a life of poverty.

He is from a very rural part of eastern Kenya where there are few runners. His parents were farmers. Initially, he did not attend training camps that many Kenyan runners are a part of. He trained alone.

His North American racing debut was the Healthy Kidney 10K in New York City in 2008. He ran a 28:19.

No one else in his family runs.

With his earnings, he bought his family a coffee plantation.

A typical training day includes getting up at 5:30 a.m. and meeting friends for training. Once a week they do along run of about 20 miles at a 4:30 min/mile. He comes back home after to have breakfast and tea. He rests for an hour then does some work (real estate). He east lunch and goes out for a second training run.

He believes it is possible that a marathon can be run in sub two hours. He expects this will be done someday by a Kenyan.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

This is the post where I post pictures and you guess what the hell is going on. Then I tell you.

Here I am working the Skirt Chaser 5K tent at the Oktoberfest Triathlon this morning. I shared the tent with two gorgeous seniors from the University of Colorado. I felt old, frumpy, mom-like and old. They talked of studying and plans to make 60K right out of college. I was like, hey, but have you run a marathon because I do those. And I have a blog.

I tried to hang. The one girl asked me if I knew who Kei$ha was. I might be old but I’m not dead. (Look, I even put the “$” in her name, that has to count for something, right?). I just poke fun. These girls really were awesome and fun to hang out with. I’m just having youth envy and am bitter.

This is my son, who is 13, driving a 1950 Willy yesterday. That is my dad in the back, lounging. My dad’s friend owns this car, and taught his own son to drive in in. It has no doors and an optional windshield. But, by God, it has lap belts. I also like the sunroof and I’m sure it has heated seats and airbags.

In Colorado you can now get your driving permit when you are 14. This means this summer for Sam. Is it wrong that I cried when I saw this picture? Mostly because he used to drive this:

Don’t even pretend you don’t want one of these sweet back hoes (not those kind of hoes). Oh, wait, that might be a front loader. Forgive me, I don’t work in construction.

Weird, he even has the same pose in those pictures.

This is part of the production that is going on around here as the countdown is on for Tuesday’s Taylor Swift concert. There are also posters and hats. I do like Taylor $wift, but I don’t like being trapped in a large venue with 30,000 other screaming ‘tweens. This, however, will be the highlight of Emma’s year. I do it for the greater good. We went last year and I have to say she puts on a good show.

What’s been your favorite concert ever? I have been to SO many, but I actually surprised myself and liked Paul McCartney the best. Maybe I am old.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

I may fart a bit (understatement) and have to take the occasional dump in the bushes, but sometimes people still want to run with me. One of life’s greatest gifts is a long run with a good friend. I said “good friend.” Not some skank who gets on your nerves.

A friend who does not judge you when you stop ten times to get that rock out of your shoe. A friend who listens for 58 straight minutes while you unload about the happenings of your life (well, they do say you should be running your long runs at a conversational pace and I take that very seriously). A friend who only asks that she not be downwind when you let those ginormous farts rip. A friend who obliges without question when you ask her to take multiple pictures of you for some stupid ass blog.

Those are not weights on my wrist, just rolled down arm warmers. You like the big breast shaped mountain in the background?

Like my new shirt? Ever heard of Team Marathon Bar? They have asked me to be an honorary member at the Denver Rock ‘n Roll in a couple of weeks. I’ve never been an honorary member of anything, so this is making me feel all honorary or something. I have lots more to tell you about Team Marathon and will do so next week with an awesome giveaway. Hope you like Marathon Bars. What’s not to like, right?

J and I ran 12 miles on the dirt/back roads of Boulder County. It was a glorious morning with temps starting in the 50s and reaching well into the 70s by the time we were done.

In two weeks I will be pacing J at the Denver Rock ‘n Roll Half as she smashes her goal to break two hours. Can she do it? Shit yeah. This is the same friend who ran her first half two years ago and her first marathon exactly one year ago. She has come so far. She also blow dries her pubic hair but I already spoke of that in a prior post. Sorry you missed it.

I love this picture at the Colorado Marathon last year. She is steps from the finish line of her first marathon and is literally flying.

Today’s run was surprisingly crap-free and void of drama. No rushing dogs, snakes, weather changes or medical emergencies. I’ll take it!

Do you prefer to do long runs with friends, your spouse/partner, or solo? I LOVE my solo runs, but sometimes really enjoy the company of a good friend.

What’s your favorite energy/protein bar? I actually like all of them except those PURE PROTEIN ones that contain sugar alcohols and give you the runs. My fave is probably Luna’s chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever been paced in a race? Did you meet your goal? I have never been paced, except by that paper pace band on my wrist.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Great day for a ride, so I pushed the kids out the door with some frozen pancakes in their tummies (no, I did not even defrost them). By the way, the Eating Right brand from Safeway is pretty decent if you don’t have time to make your own. I just do not show my 13 year old the box or he would never eat them.

Kids were gone and we were off. I love this ride up to Rabbit Mountain, which is also called Rattlesnake Mountain (for obvious reasons) if you are really cool and a local like me.

Ken and I cruised to the turn off, then started climbing. I have a love/hate relationship with this climb. It is steady for the first four miles, then you turn a corner and holy sh&t that mother is steep. It may be a short climb, but it is a doozy and I always feel like I am going to pop a vein, puke, cry or fall over. But I never do. If I don’t do one other productive or meaningful thing in my day, at least I know I have conquered this bitch.

Okay, confession, that’s not really the road. But I swear it is just like that.

And, the view from the top? Well, it’s pretty special.

I will NEVER look cool on my bike. It’s just not in my DNA. Especially with that tumor I have in my lower back. I need to get that checked.

Today I broke the speed limit and got to 41 mph going down that sucker. Usually me and my little self cannot get going that fast, but I am getting more fearless on the bike these days on the downhills. Not sure if that is a good thing because there are no local orphanages around here for my children.

My better/studlier half :

It was only 21 miles, but we kept a fast pace (well, Ken paced me so we all know that means that my pace doesn’t count according to the IAAF). I got SO hungry the last few miles and came home chugged a huge glass of milk au chocolat as the French say (I was a French major so I know these things and am very sophisticated).

I look possessed or in pain or like a meth addict. Can’t decide which.

After I work out (and it was HOT out there today), I always get freezing. Queue new jacket just sent to me by Refuel with Chocolate Milk. LOVING this thing. Although they should be called Refuel Avec le Lait au Chocolate, like in Paris.

This is my attempt to not do a boring pose. Are you bored? You probably can’t see my legs because they are camouflaged. But, rest assured, they exist. Yes, we keep our bikes in the dining room even though we have a perfectly good garage. Doesn’t everyone?

I am proud that my hair can provide a nest for the birds around here:

Tonight I am hoping Ken will take me on a date that doesn’t involve wearing Garmins and eating Honey Stinger Waffles.

What are your plans for tonight? I'm hoping to eat some tapas and drink some good wine all for $1 or at least for pretty cheap.

Do you FREEZE after your workouts? YES! Does not matter if it is 8 or 80 degrees outside. Does not matter if I’ve run .1 miles or 15 miles.

What was your major in college? Are you using it? I was French and Poly Sci. I am using neither (except on this blog). I was an interpreter for awhile after college, but then I got my MSW and am proud to say I am using that.

In short, the powers that be (the IAAF) have made a decision that “records in women’s road racing will count only if they are set in women’s-only events, to nullify the benefits of pacesetting by faster male runners.“

Ummm..excuse me?

Yeah, you read that right. So Paula Radcliffe’s 2:15:25 world record in London 2003 is now null and void because it was a mixed race. It will now be called a “world best” not a “world record.” I guess as long as the elite women start at enough of a different time as the men, then it’s okay. But, if they are all running together, apparently women get an unfair advantage from faster pacers who have penises.

I never understood the outcry that a race time was unfair just because someone was paced by someone else. It’s not like they were picked up and carried, or pulled by their hair or put on horseback by someone else. They still ran the damn race on their own two feet, the required distance. If someone who is running near them provided inspiration and set a pace that prompted faster speed, so be it.

Plus, if this so-called pacing is such an advantage, one could argue that all women in that race have the same conditions: they all have faster men to pace off of, so it should be an equal playing field.

However, when it comes to world records, the IAAF thinks that the extra bonus provided by male pacers muddies the race results and makes them non-legit.

Now that you’ve had 36 hours to catch up on the premier of the Biggest Loser and to digest every morsel (Jennie O Turkey, Extra Sugar Free Chewing Gum), let’s talk.

The good:

1. ‘Vett the New Trainer: I’m really digging this dude. I have never heard that name before, have you? I think it means “lean muscles of beauty” in some language or another. I always thought a dolvett was a cover for a comforter. Or maybe that’s duvet.

Anyhow, this duvet reminds me of a tough boot camp dude, like from the movies. Remember Officer and a Gentleman? GET UP MAYO!! ARE YOU A PUSSY? Yet, Dolvett’s got this softer, gentler side. Based on the other night, if he was my trainer, I would want to meet his expectations and not let him down. I think he would push me to and beyond my limits. He would motivate me. He’s got that “Shut Up and Run” attitude. And, holy shit when he takes off his shirt, major eye candy. He is the total package, and speaking of packages… or at least that’s how it came across last night.

I did a little poking around on Dolvett and here’s what I found: He’s 38. He opened his own fitness studio in 2004 in Atlanta training and transforming clients. He helped one guy lose 325 pounds. He’s trained big names like Justin Bieber and Janet Jackson. His favorite name is Beth and he likes small breasted women (okay might have made that last part up).

2. The marathon! The marathon is back and with a twist!! I know it’s debatable whether people should lose this kind of weight and train for a marathon in a short period of time. I get that and can’t say I disagree. But, it’s kind of like putting extra cheese on your pizza, you know you shouldn’t be a fan of it, but you are drawn in and cannot help yourself.

3. No puke scenes. This has to be a first ever for the season premier of TBL. I have a vomit phobia and cannot even watch it happening on TV, so this was good news for me. I would add a picture but I’m too afraid to do Google images on “Biggest Loser Puke.” Go do it and tell me how bad it was.

The bad:

1. Bob’s receding hair line and slicked back hair.

2. Splitting teams up by ages. Not a fan.

3. The fact that the older team walked the first challenge instead of trying to run just part of a mile. C’mon it’s the Biggest Loser. You’ve got more than that. Yes, I’m judgmental.

4. Anna (ah-nah). Let’s talk Anna. I went in with an open mind, well sort of. Honestly, I thought she was very weak. She simply does not have the presence or energy to be a trainer in this capacity. I don’t think you have to yell and scream, but there is a certain charisma that a trainer on this show needs to have. Yes, she is gorgeous, with perfect skin and a kick ass body. And, she can cry at the most opportune moments. But, she doesn’t have the “it” factor that a BL trainer needs to have. Maybe she’ll prove me wrong. Would be kind of cool if she did. Put me in my place. Wouldn’t be the first time.

This means I do what I want when I want without some plan screaming at me. This is heaven, but in about a month it will be hell because I will get antsy for what is next. What is next? Thought you would never ask. I am considering one or more of the following for the spring/summer:

Marathon

Ultra Marathon

Another 70.3

2x a 70.3. What is that called again?

Yesterday’s adventure of choice was a bike ride with Stacia from Twist Yoga Wear (check out her amazing tie dye stuff) in the hills of Boulder County. We headed out from the Boulder Reservoir and up Lefthand Canyon, one of the most popular and scenic moderate climbs around here.

Stacia just got back from the 70.3 World Championships in Vegas and is training for her first Ironman in Coeur d’Alene in June 2012. She is about as big as my left breast, but is a real powerhouse. Needless to say, this was my view for most of the ride as Stacia pulled my ass up these mini mountains:

She has a nice backside, so it wasn’t too bad. I had a lot of time to think about how much I want the shorts she is wearing, the Vogue Shorties by Skirt Sports. But, I will have to delay gratification because they are $75 and my family needs to eat this week.

After a few miles of climbing, we arrived at the small town of Jamestown, population 300. I love this spot. There is a fire station, a church, a one room school house (one of the few remaining) and a restaurant, the “Merc” which has good breakfasts. The last time my family came for some pancakes, no one in the restaurant was wearing shoes and the woman cooking our breakfasts had a baby strapped to her chest in a sling. You don’t get that at Starbucks. And, bonus, I didn’t get diarrhea!

We rode down a few miles and if I had nuts I would have frozen them off because the wind was strong and BITING. We turned onto the infamous Old Stage Road which has a reputation for hills that make you cuss. I wasn’t too worried until I looked up and saw this. Mother f&cker!:

Obviously I was not in a helicopter to get this shot (thanks Google images), but you get the idea.

Me (whimpering like a little girl): Okay, are we going up that thing?

Stacia: I don’t think so. I think the road veers off.

It didn’t. But, it really wasn’t that bad. I just like to be dramatic because it makes stories better, don’t you think? This is actually the road that the Boulder Peak Triathlon follows, only they go the other way, which I think would be much harder. Note to self: NEVER do that race.

We headed back to Boulder. The road from hell spit us out right by Boulder’s favorite strip joint, the Bus Stop. We thought about going in for a dance and a few extra bucks, but I forgot my 10” heels and thong.

Back to the Rez we went for a total of 32 miles and about 2,000 feet of climbing. My feet looked like this (Raynaud’s Syndrome; happens when I get cold. SICK!)

Stacia looked like this:

I told you she was cute.

I grabbed a 49 oz cup of coffee (well, more like 16 oz, but I’m dramatic, remember?) and ate a Luna protein bar (chocolate chip cookie dough flavor; these things are to die for) on the way home. I hopped in a hot bath which is sometimes the only thing that gets me officially warm.

A morning of pure perfection if you ask me.

What are you training for these days?

Do your feet ever look like mine when you get cold?

What do you think my next BIG GOAL should be? I am not convinced it is time for me to commit to the Ironman. Perhaps I will wait until I am 95 so Dr. Drew or Ellen might have me on their show.